


In the Garden

by greyvvardenfell



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: (whatever dorian is really fun to write), (which is probably weird for smut right?), Blow Jobs, Dialogue Heavy, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, M/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 11:05:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11080260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/greyvvardenfell
Summary: The Winter Palace has its diversions, but Jakariel Lavellan wants something a bit different than the intrigues of Halamshiral to fill his time before meeting with Empress Celene. Thankfully, Dorian is always close at hand.





	In the Garden

“I hate to tear you away, but can I have a word?” Jakariel flashed his dazzling smile to the pair of masked women Dorian was regaling with one of his anecdotes.

The mage must have noticed the glint in his eyes Jakariel tried to hide, or perhaps the way he tugged almost nervously on the hem of his red dress uniform. “But of course, Inquisitor,” he answered, raising a curious eyebrow. “My apologies, ladies. We'll have to continue this later.” He bowed shortly to the nobles and shifted his attention to his amatus.

Jakariel nodded to the women as well and tilted his head towards one of the garden’s covered walkways, inviting Dorian to follow. The open trellises offered little in the way of privacy, but the shifting shadows and din of the nearby minstrels would serve to hide the two of them well enough. He pressed through the crowded courtyard, feeling Dorian’s presence at his back.

They passed between the wide pillars of the portico and made their way to the end of the darkened corridor. Jakariel surveyed the corner through narrowed eyes. Growing up Dalish had honed his observation skills more than any of his other training had, and even distracted as he was, he was reasonably certain that they would not be disturbed here. Regardless, he was almost past the point of caring.

“This is probably as private as we're going to get, you know,” Dorian said, glancing around as well. “We should have at least a few moments before the next throng of admirers comes looking for you. Or for me.” A small smirk played on his lips. “Was there something you wanted, my Lord Lavellan?”

Jakariel let out his breath in a rough gasp and grabbed Dorian by the lapels, pressing him against the cool white wall and claiming his mouth with his own. Dorian grunted in surprise as his back hit the stones, but parted his lips for Jakariel’s insistent tongue.

“What I want,” the elf growled as he pulled back, “Is to find the one room in this palace that isn't guarded, pull you into it, and _ravish_ you.” He slid his hand down Dorian’s side and curled around the back of his leg. Dorian shifted eagerly into his touch, their breaths mingling as he leaned into another searing kiss, taking this one for himself.

Jak pushed the rich fabric of Dorian’s tunic up, baring the waistband of his tailored trousers and the smooth brown skin beneath. He dragged his nimble archer's fingers across Dorian’s abdomen, through the trail of dark hair beneath his navel, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. “I want to strip this uniform off of you piece by piece and kiss you until neither of us can breathe,” he said, his eyes hooded and his pupils blown wide and black as he explored his lover's body. He could almost forget the assassination plot that had brought them here and the courtly intrigues that infused the very air of this place with Dorian so close. Almost.

Both of them were panting heavily as Jakariel drew lower to caress the growing bulge between the man's thighs. He smiled against Dorian’s lips when he inhaled sharply at the touch. Jak moved his hands out of the way and pushed himself against Dorian in their place, his own erection already straining at the confinement of his trousers. He whispered roughly into his ear, punctuating each statement with a grind of his hips. “I want to see you on your hands and knees in front of me and feel myself enter you.” He undid the lowest button on Dorian’s jacket with deft movements. “I want to thrust into you until you finish on the carpet and they can never quite get the stain out.” Another button. The wide silken belt prevented him from accessing the rest. “I want to feel you tremble and hear you moan.” Jakariel’s heart hammered in his chest. He swore he could feel Dorian’s too. “I want to fill you with my seed and know that when I see you the rest of the night, part of me is still inside you.” He'd almost driven himself too close to the edge already, with his own words and the friction building between them. He felt both of their cocks, hard and insistent, pinned between their bodies and drew a shuddering breath. “Gods, Dorian,” he groaned, his voice rasping and dark with desire. “I want to fuck you until you can't walk and you've spilled everything you have for me.”

“Amatus,” Dorian gasped, “Please—”

Jak stopped his thrusts and pulled Dorian’s mouth to his in a passionate kiss. Dorian’s eyelids fluttered closed as he allowed Jakariel’s tongue to steal his words.

“And afterwards?” Jakariel said softly as he pulled back again, brushing his fingers across Dorian’s cheek. “I want to lay in your arms and listen to your breathing slow down and your heart stop racing, and fall asleep with the scent of you all around me.” Jakariel’s own heart skipped a beat when Dorian opened his eyes and smiled, reveling in the love that poured from him like sunlight. They lingered in the moment. “That’s what I want.” 

“Well, I must say that's not quite what I was expecting, though of course I always hope for it,” Dorian murmured when time started moving again. “Do you remember what I said about teasing?”

“I thought that only applied to you teasing me,” Jakariel said cheekily, rolling his hips again just to hear Dorian’s breath hitch.

“No, no, both ways. Not that I mind. How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since I first met you. Or since we got here. Your pick.”

Dorian rolled his eyes but didn’t restrain his pleased smile, and only barely stifled the groan deep in his throat as Jak thrust against him once more. “Discretion isn't really your thing, is it?” he asked, his voice strained.

Jakariel laughed. “Nope.”

“Well, you've certainly got me feeling amenable to your suggestions. Don't know how. Did you spike the punch?”

“Sure it wasn't my silver tongue?” Jakariel passed said tongue over his lips and winked.

“That may have helped, too. You do have a way with words, amatus.”

“Just for you, ma’arlath.”

Dorian chuckled. “I suppose we ought to be finding our way to a back room, then?” He reluctantly pushed Jakariel away. “We could stay here, I suppose, but I feel like we might be noticed. The two handsomest men at the party, fucking in the garden? We'd be the talk of the Empire.”

“Fine by me.” Jakariel pushed back, pinning Dorian against the wall again with a sly grin. He pressed his thigh between Dorian’s legs and felt the resulting shiver roll up the Tevinter’s whole body.

He gasped. “Oh, if you do that again, the fun will be over before it begins.”

“Are you that close already?” Jakariel purred. He didn't move his leg.

“What can I say?” Dorian squirmed against the pressure, his chest heaving. “Y-you know, ah, you know what I like.”

Jakariel smirked, shot a quick look over his shoulder, and sank to his knees in front of Dorian. “It might be even more fun on Round Two, then,” he said as he tugged Dorian’s waistband down, freeing his erection.

Dorian sighed happily and sagged against the wall as Jak wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and took the head into his warm mouth, swirling his tongue through the pearls of precum leaking over Dorian's frenum piercing. He toyed with the silverite studs as he passed, earning himself a muffled gasp and an almost-frantic thrust. He looked up, amused. “Mmm, you weren’t kidding.”

“No, I wasn’t. Please, Jak—”

Jakariel cut him off by stroking up his shaft, squeezing gently. Dorian let his head loll back, supporting himself on Jak’s shoulders with his back pressed into the smooth stones behind him.

It took only a few more strokes before he tensed and came with a shudder and a ragged exhalation. Jakariel was ready for him, catching the sprays of white across his tongue. He felt Dorian’s fingers clench, pressing hard into his skin, the heat of the magic never far from his grasp substantial even through the thick fabric of his dress uniform. He grinned and swallowed, their eyes meeting as Dorian floated down from the crest of his orgasm.

“My turn?” Jakariel asked, pumping lazily along his lover’s cock one last time.

“That’s only fair, isn’t it?” answered Dorian, trying to hide his breathlessness. “Are you going to be, ah, quieter than usual?”

“Probably not.”

“We are in public, you know. At the Winter Palace, no less. During a ball thrown by the Empress. Fasta vass, what are we doing, Jakariel?”

“Thinking a little more clearly with your blood rushing back where it belongs, huh?” Jakariel kissed Dorian’s piercing and tucked his softening cock back into his trousers. “No worries. I’ll make an exhibitionist of you yet.”

“‘Where it belongs’ is a matter of debate, and aren’t things hard enough with one of us causing all the trouble?”

Jakariel raised a pale eyebrow. “Something’s certainly hard, and getting harder by the second.”

“You’re impossible, amatus. And I love you.” Dorian pulled Jakariel up into a kiss, cradling his head in his warm hands. They traded places against the wall. “You really ought to at least try to keep it down,” he said as he kissed along Jakariel’s jaw, making his way slowly down the elf’s body. “Just a bit. This little corner won’t seem so dark with such, erm, _obvious_ sounds of our activities spilling out of it.”

“You don’t appreciate me telling you what a good job you’re doing?”

Dorian laughed as he knelt. “On the contrary, I appreciate it far too much. An endless cycle, that.”

“Poor us.” Jak’s cock twitched when he felt Dorian’s breath upon it.

“Oh, yes, how terrible. You will tell me if you ruin my mustache, won’t you?”

“I’ll try not to aim for it. This time.”

“It’s a damn good thing you’re a better shot with a bow. Remember the Tent Incident? Directing my own fire into my eye would have stung less.”

Both of them laughed. Dorian kept his gaze trained on Jakariel as he slid his lips down the elf’s hairless golden-brown shaft. Jak moved with him, trying to stifle the moans he longed to release, feeling the edges of the world fray when Dorian ran his tongue along the underside of his cock before taking him into his mouth again. He gasped and thrust deeper into his mouth, almost knocking him over with his enthusiasm. Dorian stabilized himself against Jakariel’s legs, a cheeky spark in his grey-green eyes: he knew what Jak liked just as much as Jak knew what he liked.

Jakariel lost his fight to be quiet when Dorian scraped his teeth across the ridge of sensitive skin along his circumcision scar. He moaned openly, his deep voice sharpening to a cry as he came in pulses down Dorian’s throat.

Dorian sat back triumphantly, letting Jakariel see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed his spend. “You did well most of the time,” he offered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I admit I played a little dirty at the end there.”

“I’ll say,” Jakariel managed as he slumped against the wall. He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, waiting for the waves of passion to pass. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Will you think less of me if I say yes?” Dorian helped Jakariel back into his trousers. “I missed your screaming more than I thought I would.”

“I do not _scream_ ,” said Jakariel indignantly as he straightened his jacket. “It’s deeper, more groaning than screaming.”

He laughed. “I suppose you’re right. Still—” A peal of bells cut across Dorian’s words. “Hmm, we planned that well. No pesky bodily urges to distract you while you talk to the Empress now, eh?”

“I still have time before I need to go meet her,” Jakariel mumbled as he smoothed Dorian’s moustache with gentle fingers. “They said the second bell.”

“Aiming to be fashionably late?”

“Isn’t that the way of things here?”

“Of course, if it’s anything like soirees in Tevinter.”

“Has it been so far?” asked Jakariel, turning around to search the shadowy corner for any signs the two of them might have left behind.

Dorian wrapped his arms around Jak’s waist from behind, pulling him close. “Better,” he murmured into his amatus’ sharply pointed ear. “I have you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm more than a little in love with Jak and his boyfriend, so expect to see more of them at some point!


End file.
